


Lovers' Wort

by lemonsharks



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, F/F, Feeding Kink, Finger Sucking, Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, Making Out, Navel Play, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Trick of Treat Treat, Trick or Treat 2016, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 21:34:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8225434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsharks/pseuds/lemonsharks
Summary: A princess and her knight-companion slip away from the royal hunt for some fun of their own.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArgylePirateWD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgylePirateWD/gifts).



The princess broke away from the rest of the hunters, as Sharra knew she would. 

Where dogs bayed and horns sounded up ahead, music over the rhythm of hoofbeats enchanting the rest of the party, Nolia only wanted space to herself. Space she took wherever she could scrabble away at it, like crumbling rock beneath her fingers. 

She leaned into a jump and whistled sharply, signaling Sharra to follow, and she did--she would go where her liege led, would place herself between the younger woman and whatever dangers she might face, would trade her life for duty. Though she’d far prefer to live. She’d taken oaths. She took them seriously. 

Thin branches--more switches, really--beat against her face and body as she tangled her way through the wood. Leaves and twigs had caught in the princess Nolia’s hair, fine and dark and wild. She turned in the saddle and grinned, pleased Sharra had come this time without a fuss, and slowed her mount to a walk.

“Satisfied we’re far enough from the rest of the party?” Sharra asked.

“For now. I’d like to get to the sea cliffs before the day is through--the view is splendid there.”

Ten miles of rough country lay between them and those cliffs, and Sharra did not suppress a small groan. 

Nolia laughed and tossed her head. She was built for wild places, compact and muscled, insistent on training _with_ her guard so that she might take her life in her own hands if needed. Her skin was warm red-brown, like Sharra’s own; her eyes so dark they were almost black, full of vigor and mischief. A beauty, certainly, and even cleverer than she was pretty.

She would make a fine queen, Sharra knew, if she lived to see the other side of the throne. 

_Never forget your place_ , she thought, _between a dagger’s point and your--_

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t _go_ ,” Sharra said.

“Then we’re off!”

They rode for hours, the sky above them shifting from a clear blue to a moody gray and back again. Sharra sweated underneath her leathers. When she glanced over at Nolia, her hair had gone flat against her skull with damp, despite the thick air. 

She couldn’t hear the dogs any longer, though the horns still carried, and she thought what a fool she must be to do anything but take her princess directly back to the thick of the action. Full view of every other noble twip who thought they could spear a boar or take a hart with their bow. 

It was important she be _seen_ , important she make herself one of her court, important she overcome her mother’s reputation as strange, aloof, slightly mad. 

But in truth Sharra relished these quiet moments alone together--when she might claim all of Nolia’s attention, where she might speak freely and plainly, unbound by the strictures of her service. 

“We’d best stop for a while,” Nolia said, as they came up on a fine sunny glade, carpeted in moss on the edges and soft grass in the middle. “Rest the horses, eat a bit.” 

A spring burbled from the rocks at the center of the place, like it had been built, not formed by nature’s hand. But that was foolish, and Sharra laughed for it. 

“Something amuses my lady,” Nolia said, dismounting. She loosened her gelding’s girth and patted him on the flank, then tied him loosely to a downed tree near a patch of taller grass. 

Sharra did the same, and placed herself behind her princess. She laid her hands on her ample hips and ran them forward, around her soft belly, kissing her neck in soft little pecks as she went. 

It was unusual that a knight of the court follow her charge to bed, a distraction from her duty, but Sharra learned discretion early. Nolia leaned back into her arms, sighing, and kissed the corner of her mouth, her lower lip, her cheek. 

“Still cranky about the trip?” Nolia asked, and Sharra cracked a smile. No dogs, no horns, no hunt, and the hunters themselves were likely too preoccupied to miss them. 

“You planned all this yourself, you sneak,” Sharra said.

“It’s been almost two years, you know.”

She knew. Five since she earned a place at the princess’s side; three since her cheeks went hot and her throat dry at the sound of her voice, two since the kiss in the servants’ corridor, Nolia sneaking where she ought not to be and Sharra behind her with sword in hand, muttering about fool heads and foolhardy princesses.

“Shut _up_ ,” Nolia had said, and taken her mouth with abandon. 

Now, she said, “I brought us a treat from the gardens.”

She rummaged in her saddlebag, displacing their rations and a woodsman’s kit with cord and candles, flint and steel and charcloth. Finally she came up with a handkerchief knotted into a bundle, and Sharra raised both brows in expectation. 

Nolia slipped out of shadow and into sun, the clouds above now puffy-soft and harmless. 

“The last of the season’s strawberries?” Sharra guessed. 

“Better,” Nolia said, sitting cross-legged on the warm grass. 

She undid the knots with bitten-nailed fingers and spread the bundle out before them. Sharra knelt beside her and met her liquid-dark eyes the moment the smell hit her nose. 

The bundle contained a number of succulent leaves the size of coins, pale jade in the center and rose-colored on the edges, their stems dripping with clear sap. A pungent scent, at once sweet and musky, hit her nose, and she closed her eyes, imagining Nolia sneaking into the greenhouses by night and wandering plant to plant to find what she wanted. 

“Lovers’ wort,” Sharra said, and Nolia grinned. 

It was a rare plant, finicky to grow, and she had a dozen jewel-like leaves here for them to share. 

Nolia took a leaf between her fingers and extended her hand to Sharra. _Eat_ , the princess’s eyes said, half-lidded over her straight nose and soft mouth. Sharra took the leaf and the tips of Nolia’s fingers between her lips, eyes fluttering as the taste hit her. Sweet. Almost cloyingly so, and herbal at the back of it. She opened her eyes and sucked on Nolia’s fingers, pleased with the arousal writ plain on her face. 

_She took the wort before we left_ , Sharra thought, pulling back and biting into the leaf. Juice exploded in her mouth and warmth radiated through her body, from the apex of her thighs up through her belly and breasts, neck and face. 

She swallowed, took a leaf, and pressed it between Nolia’s parted lips. Nolia bit down, halving it, and then took both halves of the leaf into her mouth. The aftertaste was almost candylike, and Sharra couldn’t resist taking another, savoring the astringency from the inner membrane and the cool wash of the pulp. The pulse of blood between her thighs, turning her warm and slick and ready.

She fed Nolia another leaf, and watched her rock her hips slightly, as if seeking purchase inside her trousers. A blush rose to Sharra’s cheeks, watching her princess, her lover, in such a state. 

“Strip,” she said, “Please, I need to see all of you, I need to touch all of you.” 

Nolia shivered at the command and rose carefully. She unbuttoned her shirt and toed off her boots, slipped her hand beneath her trousers and likely into the folds of her cunt. A sharp ache built between Sharra’s ribs-- _she_ should be touching her, should be burying her tongue in her folds, should be--

She stopped, stood, shook her head to clear it, and began pulling her own clothing off a piece at a time while Nolia stood before her, caressing herself beneath the cloth. Bare, she crossed the small space between them and kissed her princess, tongue darting in and out between her lips, stroking, tasting the herb on the skin of her lips. She felt Nolia’s hands working herself between them, held her through the shudder of her first climax. 

Sharra hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her trousers and pushed them down over her hips to pool at her ankles. Nolia stepped out of them, withdrawing her fingers from her body, and pressed them to Sharra’s lips. She let her tongue dart out for a long lick, savoring the taste of her, faintly sharp with lovers’ wort and always, always delicious. 

Kneeling, she drew Nolia down with her, and pressed her shoulders back into the grass. 

Nolia smiled up at her, now straddling her thighs, and said, “I’ve missed seeing you like this, you know.”

“Naked?”

“Yes, and soft. For me, all your edges worn down and--” 

Sharra shimmied down her legs and kissed her throat, her sternum, the underside of her breast with open mouth. She left a bruise on the tender flesh of her breast, and moved to her stomach, soft skin and plush over muscle beneath. 

She licked into her navel and Nolia bucked her hips, sent a shock of want through Sharra’s whole body. She kissed her again, just below the navel this time, long and sucking and edged with her teeth, until Nolia moaned and took her head between her hands, fingers twining in her hair. 

“More?” she asked, “Less? Keep going, stop?”

“Don’t you dare.”

The wiry brush of hair between her legs was soaked through with her arousal, and Sharra knew she was in a similar state. Her clit throbbed, ached from the touch of her lips on either side of it, the shift of her body as she took her princess apart piece by piece.

Sharra lapped at the place just above her pelvis, where a scattering of sparse hair lay, and spread her hands flat on Nolia’s belly, rubbing lightly into the flesh. Nolia bucked upward again, and this time she applied her mouth to her cunt, slick and soft and aching for her. She drew her tongue down from the apex of her slit to her opening, making nonsense shapes with the tip as she went, relishing the way Nolia squirmed beneath her as she kneaded her belly with strong fingers. 

She lapped with the flat of her tongue, first in long strokes, and then short ones, listening all the while for her lover’s voice. Little mewls and whimpers, hands on her hands, dragging one up to her breast and shifting the other hand lower, stroking little circles with her fingertips. 

Sharra took her hand from her breast, then, and slipped her fingers deep inside her, two at first, and then a third. She curled them upward again and again over the rough patch of flesh there, and sucked her clit past her teeth ‘til Nolia’s voice broke on a moan and her walls fluttered, hard, around Sharra’s hand. 

Nolia arched her back and moved her hands in Sharra’s hair, curling in beneath the strands of her neat basket-braid, shuddering while Sharra stroked and licked and kept her coming for long moments. 

They seldom had such leisure, Nolia free to lay upon the grass and breathe as if she meant to bring her body down herself. Slowly, Sharra eased her fingers from within her, stroked the sides of her swollen clit with her tongue, and rose so she knelt before Nolia’s spread, liquid body. 

“Kiss me,” Nolia said, “I want to taste you.”

The words came out slurred, but she obeyed, kissing a line from her mound up her belly and between her breasts, her throat, her chin, her lips. Nolia curled her hand around the back of Sharra’s head, deepening the kiss, slipping her tongue softly between Sharra’s lips. 

Nolia pulled away and watched her with hooded eyes, blinking slow and languid and satisfied. “You must be wound,” she said, and stroked Sharra’s cheek with her knuckles. 

“A bit,” she said. Then, “Yes. I think I could come with a breath.”

“Come here, then,” Nolia replied, curling her shorter body behind Sharra’s lanky frame.

She kissed the backs of Sharra’s shoulderblades and reached around to her front. Sharra parted her thighs and Nolia slipped her small, nimble fingers between her lips, teasing the place just below her clit, making little strokes through her wetness and murmuring adulations into her back. 

Sharra tensed with her touches, her cunt winding slowly into readiness, while Nolia worked her like porcelain clay. Gentle strokes, easy ones, and the edge of a nail on her clit made her gasp, made her buck into Nolia’s hand. She moved more quickly then, with short, hard strokes directly over Sharra’s clit, strokes that made her whine and keen ‘til all of the tension in her released at once in waves and pulses. 

She shook with it, chin on her chest and back arched into Nolia’s front, taking long, even breaths to still herself. 

“Another?” Nolia asked. She stroked her thigh and placed gentle kisses across her back. 

“No, I--” Sharra started. She had to clear her throat. “We should wash up, get dressed, get going.”

“To the cliffs?” Nolia said, lips on Sharra’s shoulder.

“If you like.”

“Let’s stay here a while longer, though.”

Sharra turned and hooked her leg over Nolia’s hip, drawing her close. Nolia came without complaint, their breasts pressing together as she curled into her body and drifted off to sleep. 


End file.
